


Love Squall

by ZhoraKys



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Impact Play, Jigen calling Goemon "babe" like if u agree, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22720507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZhoraKys/pseuds/ZhoraKys
Summary: Under that cool exterior, Goemon has a whole lot of feelings. Maybe his partners in crime can help him achieve a state of perfect serenity again.Takes place a few months after the events of Trust Somebody (but you don't have to read that first).
Relationships: Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Jigen Daisuke, Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Mine Fujiko
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71





	1. FujiGoe

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well… I'm here. You've finished your drink. What… what do you want?"

Fujiko grinned and leaned back in her chair. Her skirt snagged on the slightly textured upholstery, exposing a few additional centimetres of her bare legs: smooth, freshly waxed, the colour of milk. 

"That's a nice way of asking. You're off to a good start, Goemon. Say it again."

The samurai blinked, his eyes trained on Fujiko's thighs. His cheeks felt hot. "What do you want, Fujiko?"

This time Fujiko leaned forward, uncrossing her legs, propping her elbows up on her knees and looking like a mischievous schoolgirl. "Well, for starters," she said, "I want you to get rid of those silly clothes."

Goemon looked down at himself. His loose, outmoded garments felt like a part of him, and stripping in front of Fujiko was mortifying no matter how many times he did it. 

It wasn't always like _this_ , specifically. The scenes and the settings changed. Sometimes months would go by in which Goemon would barely _see_ Fujiko, let alone… 

But she always came back. And when she did, she always had some reason to call on him, or knock on his bedroom door late at night while Lupin was conked out.

And sometimes she was the one stripping for him. Sometimes the clothing disappeared in a flurry of other activity. It wasn't that he was particularly skittish about nudity, either, but there was something about Fujiko's gaze that seemed always to be appraising, calculating the value of certain fragments of a bodily whole. It made Goemon blush. In all this time, he hadn't quite figured out if it was a pleasant blush or one of actual discomfort. So he assumed the former.

He shrugged off his shirt and untied the sash holding his hakama up around his waist. The garments fell easily, making a quiet _whump_ as they crumpled onto the low-pile hotel carpet. The first time this had happened Goemon had coyly -- or naively -- left his fundoshi untouched and Fujiko had cut it off of him, inexpertly, wielding Zantetsuken with frightful disregard. Goemon had been indignant -- and yet, undeniably aroused. The nick she'd accidentally inflicted on his upper thigh had faded into a tiny white line, a scar that his gaze would often fall to when he was "relieving tension," alone. 

This time, Goemon dispensed with the undergarment, revealing his half-hard manhood to Fujiko. She smiled and let out a little sigh and he felt the blush spread to his chest. 

"Oh… Goemon, you're so lovely," she said, smiling. She leaned back again, this time spreading her legs, the skirt hitching up all the way to her hips. "Kneel, Goemon-chan."

Goemon did as he was told. From the floor, he could clearly see that Fujiko was not wearing any underwear. 

"Like what you see?"

"Mm."

"Well, show me then. Touch yourself."

Goemon swallowed and took himself in hand, stroking slowly, gently, staring at the shadow of Fujiko's slit. It didn't take long until he was completely hard. Fujiko wouldn't let him get much past that point.

"Enough. There you are. Now, I think I deserve some attention, don't you?" She scooted her hips toward the edge of the chair. 

Goemon edged closer and knelt before her, pressing his face into the space between her legs, kissing a trail up one thigh before burying his face under her skirt. He lapped at her experimentally, listening to her moans to determine what motion elicited the loudest response. He settled on a pattern of gentle circles, pressing the flat of his tongue firmly against her clit. 

"Mmmmhmmm… remind me, darling, that I need to get Lupin in the room while you're doing this so he can take some... notes."

Goemon hummed into her. The idea of Lupin watching him, watching them, like this, was daunting, but not entirely off-putting. 

Fujiko suddenly pushed against his shoulders. He came up for air, looking at her inquisitively. 

"Does it bother you, when I talk about Lupin? While we're doing this?"

"No."

"Hmm…" Fujiko appraised him. "Get up," she said suddenly, standing as she said it. "Go to the bedroom."

Goemon did as he was told. The hotel room was bigger than most apartments, and the master bedroom was, in Goemon's mind, mostly wasted space. The king-sized bed barely took up half of it, though it was centered against the far wall of the room so as to prevent any attempt to use the space more efficiently. 

Fujiko had arranged a pair of handcuffs on each of the four bedposts. The real kind -- no pink fuzz in sight. Goemon knew she enjoyed the imagery of the real cuffs, the subversion of willingly submitting to the one thing they were all afraid of. 

Jigen didn't appreciate handcuffs at all, Goemon knew from one slightly awkward attempt to introduce them. 

"Lie down. Good. Now spread your legs."

Goemon knew what was happening, and he obeyed willingly. He was nothing if not a good, obedient sub for Fujiko -- was incapable of being anything but putty in her hands, really. He knew that Fujiko found him too easy. 

Though Goemon had never directly fooled around with Lupin, he couldn't imagine the thief being anything other than a brat in such a scenario. Meditating on it, he'd come to the conclusion that Fujiko continued to fuck him, every so often, because she enjoyed the contrast, or because fucking Goemon was so easy, and once in a while everyone needed an easy win. 

He let Fujiko lock the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. 

"I want you to talk to me, Goemon."

 _Talk?_ This was different. 

"About what?"

"Mm, personal things. Things I've been wanting to ask you. First question -- will you find it easier to talk if you can see me? Or would you rather be blindfolded?"

Goemon reddened even further. Fujiko hadn't removed any of her clothing, but she also hadn't fixed her skirt since standing up, and it was still awkwardly hitched up around her hips so Goemon could see the glisten of his own saliva in the shadow between her thighs. He was aware, once again, of his erection. 

"Um… I'd like to see you."

Fujiko gave him a funny little smile. "Is that so?" She leaned toward him on the bed and, casually, almost absently, undid one, then two, of the buttons on her shirt. Her cleavage, barely contained by the lacy red bra that now peeked out of the garment, teased Goemon into a low moan. He felt momentarily ashamed for being so gratified by the mere suggestion of Fujiko's breasts.

"Yes."

"Alright. But if you take too long answering, or you tell me a lie, I get to hurt you."

She pulled a small but vicious-looking leather crop from somewhere outside of Goemon's line of vision. A thin shiver of excitement, mixed with slight apprehension, passed through him. 

"Uh… uh huh."

"Good. Let's start. I want to hear about Jigen."

"Jigen?" Goemon swallowed. He hadn't imagined this. He'd assumed that Fujiko wouldn't be interested in him and Jigen's relationship -- Jigen was off-limits to Fujiko, and Fujiko was rarely interested in things that she objectively _could not_ have; rather she preferred to chase things that only _seemed_ off-limits. But, then, Goemon reasoned, she obviously had some interest in _him._ And perhaps his conduct with Jigen was therefore also of interest. 

"Yes, Jigen. You _are_ fucking him by now, right?"

Goemon reddened. His cock jumped at the thought. It had been three months since he'd admitted his feelings to the gunman, and that had gone so unimaginably well that they'd barely lasted a week before Jigen had told Goemon, slightly drunkenly, that he'd been a horny disaster ever since their kiss and that if Goemon didn't fuck him right that second he would go insane, or possibly die. 

Goemon, being honour-bound to saving Jigen's life, had accepted his duty with grace -- he'd stood, kissed Jigen with a frankly adolescent amount of tongue, and proceeded to fuck the man senseless on top of the coffee table. 

Lupin had walked in just after Jigen had pulled his trousers back up, and while they were technically decent, there'd been no mistaking what they’d been up to a moment before.

The samurai and the gunman had scarcely been able to keep their hands off each other since. 

"Yes."

"I can tell," said Fujiko, eyeing Goemon's cock. She ran a hand up her thigh and over her cunt. "You like it? You like fucking him?"

"Yes."

"Is it you who does the fucking, usually?" She grinned, apparently amused by her own audacity. "Does he take it well?"

"Yes. Not always. He takes and gives. Well." Goemon was increasingly realizing the deviousness of Fujiko's little setup. Force him to talk about a subject that would make him _desperately_ horny, and make him unable to relieve that in any way without her help. He jerked his hips, seeking _something._

"Mm, that got you going, huh?"

Fujiko brandished the crop. Goemon stared at her, biting his lip. 

"Do you ever think of me while you're fucking Jigen?"

"...no."

Fujiko grinned, and swatted him on the thigh. Goemon hissed, but he knew she could do a lot worse. 

"I appreciate your honesty," she said, undoing another button on her shirt. "Do you ever think of Jigen while you're fucking _me?_ "

Goemon whimpered. "Yes." 

Fujiko laughed and swatted him again. Harder, this time, on the chest. Pain shimmered down Goemon's abdomen and settled in his cock.

She hiked her skirt up more and climbed onto the bed, straddling Goemon. The samurai bucked his hips instinctively, succeeding only in brushing the head of his dick against Fujiko's thigh. 

"Now, now. Who's in charge here?"

"Y-you are."

At that, Fujiko lowered herself onto Goemon's erection. The samurai had to fight to keep himself stoic as the warmth spread into his belly, the woman taking every inch of him with practiced ease, barely making a sound.

"Does Jigen's asshole feel this good, Goemon?"

"Hh…" Goemon shut his eyes and grinned in spite of himself. "Better."

That earned him three hard _thwacks_ , in quick succession. He gritted his teeth, and laughed as the stinging pain rang out from the spot on his chest again. He bucked his hips into her once and this time met no resistance, Fujiko's ass lifting easily, supported by his thighs. She cried out, grinning in ecstasy. Then she locked eyes with him, letting the smile fade. 

"Do you love him?"

Goemon froze. 

_Yes._

_Yes, I love him._

_Yes, I love him! He leaves me breathless! He's the sun and the moon in the sky and the thought of him leaves me trembling! He is as beautiful as the cherry blossoms in spring, as sweet and delightful as the finest sake, his strong arms are like armour when the world is against me! I am in love with Daisuke Jigen!_

Goemon said nothing. 

Fujiko narrowed her eyes and dragged the edge of the crop over Goemon's chest, trailing it down his belly.

"You _do._ "

"I…"

Fujiko laughed again. Goemon sighed and shut his eyes against the pleasure and the warmth, feeling her move all around him. 

"Please… don't tell him, Fujiko."

"Aww." Fujiko raised an eyebrow and smiled in a way that sent a flash of fear through the samurai. For the first time since he'd let her cuff him buck naked to the bed, he felt vulnerable. "Is someone falling a little hard? A little fast?"

Goemon swallowed and turned his face away. He felt the crop on his cheek, then. Gentle, insistent pressure tilted his face back toward Fujiko. She leaned forward and kissed him. Soft; warm; hairless -- a woman's face, a woman's kiss. Goemon tried in vain to push away memories of Jigen's rougher, smokier kisses.

"I won't tell him," she whispered into his mouth as she pulled away. "I'm not that much of a bitch."

"Thank you."

She rose again, and peeled off her shirt. "Undo my bra."

"You'll have to uncuff my hands for that."

Fujiko looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. "You're very persuasive, you know that Goemon?"

He didn't answer. She leaned forward to undo the cuffs, careful not to lose him in the process. Goemon unhooked the red lace number with one hand, letting it slide easily down her chest, revealing her generous breasts. 

"Now fuck me like you'd fuck Jigen."

Goemon gripped Fujiko's hips and slammed his hips upward. Her cries goaded him, and he fucked her faster, rougher; frantic like they could be interrupted at any moment. He let his breathing grow ragged, huffing breathless cries of approval and random innuendo, his lower voice mingling with her high-pitched squeaks. 

"Goemon!"

" _Fuji_ \-- ah!"

Goemon's orgasm came on fast, strong, unstoppable. He clenched his teeth and pushed into Fujiko, eyes shut tight, imagining Jigen, the way he sometimes started laughing when it got really, _really_ good, both of them gasping, half-hysterical. 

For a long moment he gripped Fujiko's hips, reticent, suddenly, to run his hands any further up or down and feel the undeniable femininity of Fujiko's body. She was beautiful, absurdly so, an angel straight out of a classical painting, and somehow all Goemon could think about was the wiry, hairy frame of his gunman.

"You're really beautiful when you come, Goemon."

Goemon opened his eyes and looked at Fujiko.

"So I've been told," he said with a smile.


	2. JiGoe

Jigen fumbled with the key to the hotel room, relaxing in time with the satisfying _clunk_ as the mechanism turned over and the door swung inward. If Goemon didn't know better, he'd have thought the man was nervous. 

But he did know better, and he _knew_ Jigen was nervous. 

They had a job to pull off in two days' time, but it wasn't that. Jigen rarely exhibited any outward signs of work-related stress beyond, perhaps, a tendency to grab an extra cigarette -- or two, or three -- in their downtime. 

No, Goemon was pretty sure that the gunman's current nervousness had something to do with their sleeping arrangements. Lupin had been left in charge of finding accommodations for their stay in Berlin, and according to the thief, the only rooms left in the city were the single-bed penthouse suite that Jigen had just unlocked, and the nearly identical suite that shared a wall with it. Goemon had highly doubted the veracity of this, given the season and the size of the city, but he was not exactly keen to argue the point with Lupin.

"Lupin will be fine sleeping on the couch," Fujiko had said over dinner, earning herself a mock-hurt look from Lupin, sitting next to her in their secluded booth at the back of the hotel restaurant. "And I'm sure you two" -- here she gestured to Jigen and Goemon with a dessert fork -- "can work something out. It's only a week."

Goemon was mildly surprised that they were all still putting up the pretense, as if Lupin hadn't already walked in on him and Jigen in all manner of compromising positions by now. There was a part of Goemon, though, that was glad of it. Best maintain some semblance of decorum when the four of them were together.

And now dinner was over, and small talk had petered out at last, and Lupin and Fujiko had retired a little too eagerly to their suite. Goemon would have been content to linger at the table, nursing a cup of tea and enjoying the peace and quiet of a private dining room minus Lupin and Fujiko, but it had been Jigen who quietly suggested they get some rest.

They entered the room. A short entrance corridor led into an expansive living room space, furnished with two sofas and a loveseat encircling an ultra-modern lacquered coffee table. Everything was upholstered in tasteful, if slightly boring shades of cream and olive. Jigen tossed his keys into the little dish on the shelf by the door. No need to turn on a light -- the far wall of the living room was glass, with a sliding partition leading onto a generous balcony. City lights illuminated a shadowed impression of the room. 

They stood silently, feeling the shift in air pressure; the darkness; the quiet. Goemon wondered what would happen. 

What happened was that Jigen turned around quite suddenly and said, "fuck it," under his breath, and shoved Goemon up against the wall, enveloping him in a slightly sloppy kiss. 

Goemon kissed back like it was the only thing he knew how to do, and let his hands wander freely up Jigen's arms and back, finding the man's leather shoulder holster under the silk lining of his dinner jacket; finding Jigen's tight ass through the fabric of his trousers. Goemon felt a hand on his cock, Jigen's fingers clutching as much at fabric as at flesh, and realized he was already quite hard. 

"Rrrr... is that for me, Goe?"

"Jigen…" Goemon's words were punctuated by breathless kisses, "I have been waiting _all day_ for this." He reached up behind Jigen's head and gently removed the gunman's hat, tossing it onto one of the sofas and running his fingers through Jigen's messy hair.

Jigen laughed, low and close, and Goemon thought his heart might burst.

Then the only sound in the room was their breathing; the shuffle of fabric and the gentle clink of buckles being undone; the wet sounds of hasty, desperate kissing. 

“ _God_ … you, too?"

They were pirouetting toward the bedroom now, Goemon pushing and Jigen pulling, until Jigen found the mattress with the backs of his knees and let himself fall, dragging Goemon down on top of him. 

For a moment, Goemon stayed perfectly still, breathing in the smell of Jigen’s hair. Mostly smoke, sweat, and something pleasantly minty. He wanted Jigen desperately. His cock was pressed against the other man’s groin, and even through layers of fabric he could tell that Jigen wanted him just as badly. The thought of it, of his own desire mirrored in the man before him, was enough to drive Goemon mad.

They were of similar build, but Goemon was slightly taller and significantly stronger, and could have easily torn off Jigen’s pants and taken him, roughly. 

But Goemon didn’t want that -- not tonight, not when they had an entire penthouse suite to themselves, with a securely locked door separating them from Lupin, Fujiko, and anyone else who might have an idea to interrupt. 

They had _time._ Goemon’s entire body felt warm with excitement. 

“Jigen,” he huffed. “I… I want to try something.”

“Try something?” Jigen laughed “Uh oh, Goemon, are you gonna coerce me into doing something _gay?_ ‘Cause I’ll tell you right away, I’m _not_ into that kinda--”

“Tch!” Goemon bit Jigen’s ear, causing Jigen to interrupt his own words with an involuntary hiss. “I’m serious.”

Jigen pushed himself up on his elbows, still grinning. “Sorry. What would you like to try, babe? You know I’m easy.”

Goemon cleared his throat. "I… I want to…I was wondering if you would be willing to have me tie you up.”

Jigen’s eyes sparkled. _Beautiful,_ thought Goemon, momentarily forgetting all his anxieties over the current exchange.

“Tie me up?” Jigen’s grin widened. “Pretty kinky, babe.”

“If you’re… if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

“Goemon.” Jigen sat up, now, and grabbed Goemon’s face, running his fingers back through the samurai’s hair. “I am _absolutely_ down. That sounds hot as fuck.”

Goemon brightened, and his blush deepened. “Okay.”

“You uh… you got like, rope or something? Or how do you want to do this?”

“I brought, uh, some. Get undressed. Please.”

“Ooh, _yes sir_. You're so hot when you order me around.”

Goemon stepped back from the bed to let Jigen stand and begin undressing. He watched as the gunman shrugged off his jacket, tossing it aside without a second look, and began loosening his tie. The process was businesslike, not nearly a strip tease, but Goemon found himself breathless all the same. Jigen was pulling his belt out through the loops on his trousers when he looked at the samurai and said, in a low, husky voice, “as much as I love having you watch me, wasn’t there something you were going to get?”

Goemon reddened again. “Right.” He turned and found his suitcase, still only halfway unpacked, and knelt before it to dig out a knotted length of black rope. 

When he turned back around Jigen was sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs spread, hard cock in hand. Goemon let his eyes linger on the pleasant arrangement of black hair that ran from Jigen’s chest down his stomach. The olive-y tan of the man’s skin was inviting even in the semi-darkness. Jigen's wiry muscles and pale scars spoke of inner and outer strength. The samurai imagined kissing each and every one of those thin, white marks, leaving love where once there had been destruction. 

"Stand up," he said gently. Jigen did so, pressing his naked body against Goemon's clothed form, kissing the samurai's bare chest and neck on his way up. 

"Turn around."

The gunman turned without question, pressing the tops of his thighs against the white hotel sheets. Goemon's heart skipped -- he knew how significant it was for Jigen to willingly, carelessly turn his back to someone. Such a simple action conveyed a huge amount of trust, and Goemon felt as though he'd been entrusted with something sacred.

"How do you feel about a simple wrist tie to start with?" Asked Goemon. 

"Too bad you can't see my dick from back there, otherwise you wouldn't have to ask," said Jigen with a sideways smile. 

Goemon snaked a hand across Jigen's stomach and pulled the man roughly toward him, grinding his own cock against Jigen's ass as he let his hand slide down to grope at the gunman's erection. 

He released Jigen with a kiss on the shoulder and proceeded with the tie. He doubled the rope, folding it over on itself, then wrapped the new length once around Jigen's wrists, making a quick, neat knot between the curled fingers. The rope sang quietly as he pulled it through, fingers working quickly, remembering old skills with ease. He wrapped the rope around Jigen's wrists again and again, each time adding a knot for stability, until the gunman appeared to be wearing long, ornate cuffs. 

Pulling at the excess, and satisfied with the stability, he spun Jigen around so the man was facing him, then smiled slightly and pushed Jigen backward, letting him fall helplessly onto the bed. Goemon knelt and took Jigen in his mouth. 

Jigen rewarded him with a low groan, and felt Jigen's hips twist as the man tried instinctively, and in vain, to grab at Goemon's hair.

"Oh… Goemon, where the _hell_ did you learn to do that?"

Goemon hummed around Jigen's cock, tasting sweat and salt.

"You know what… don't answer that now. I'mm _mmm_... I'm sure it's a long story."

Goemon laughed without removing his mouth and watched as Jigen's thighs trembled with the effort of holding still. 

He pulled away, running his tongue up Jigen's length. 

"How flexible would you say you are, Jigen?"

"Flexible?" Jigen laughed. "If I say _very,_ will you get back to what you were doing?"

"If you lie, you'll be punished appropriately."

"...holy _fuck,_ Goemon. How fucking _dare_ you be so hot?"

Goemon smiled. "Answer the question."

"Not bad, but I'm also an old man."

"Can you touch your wrists with your ankles?"

"Sure."

Goemon grunted an affirmative, then leaned forward to kiss Jigen again, pulling the gunman into a standing position and spinning him around, like a dancer. He pushed Jigen onto the bed for the third time. The sight of the man -- hands tied, ass positioned just so, feet spread on the floor, _needy,_ was enough to make Goemon's cock twitch. The samurai felt feverishly hot. 

He made quick work of the wrist ties, loosening the last knot and unwinding the excess, winding it back up over his own hand. He paused after each knot, and leaned forward to kiss the reddening impressions in Jigen's skin. Soon, Jigen's wrists were bound with just two narrow loops, and Goemon had a couple feet of excess rope to work with. He leaned forward, pushing himself against Jigen, kissing the back of the man's neck, smelling his hair, pushing him up further onto the mattress. When Jigen's knees were on top of the bed, Goemon took both ankles in hand and pressed them toward the back of Jigen's head, slowly but firmly, listening for any sign of discomfort from the gunman. 

But Jigen bent easily to Goemon's will, and the samurai wrapped the excess rope around Jigen's ankles, forming another set of intricate knots with the excess that hung from the wrist tie. _Now_ Jigen was helpless… and completely accessible. 

"Ooh, Goemon, have mercy!" Jigen cried into the duvet in mock distress. "Please, I'll do anything!" He began laughing, his entire body shaking with it. 

Goemon moaned aloud. 

"Please, though, babe… kidding aside I'm gonna fucking _lose_ it if I don't get your dick inside me right now…"

Goemon dragged a single finger up Jigen's inner thigh, trailing it over Jigen's most sensitive parts. Jigen was huffing and babbling now, laughing and struggling limply against the restraints. Goemon pushed one finger into Jigen, slowly, gripping his own cock with his free hand. 

"How's that?"

"Hhh… it's not your cock, but it's _something._ "

"Patience."

"I'm extremely patient! D'you know how long I waited for you to kiss me?"

That earned Jigen another finger. Goemon leaned forward, pressing his face into Jigen's back. 

"Are you still wearing your clothes?" Jigen asked, his voice strained. 

"...yes."

"Not fair! You're getting a great view and all I get is a hotel duvet in my face?"

Goemon laughed and pulled his fingers out of Jigen, eliciting a cry of mingling pain and delight from the gunman. He looked back and saw Zantetsuken leaning against the wall, ever-vigilant.

"Hold still," he whispered to Jigen, and grabbed the sword. He could swear he saw Jigen shiver as he unsheathed the blade, letting the clean, metallic _swish_ ring out in the quiet room.

Jigen stilled.

The blade flashed.

The ties that held Jigen's limbs together fell limp around the man's form. Goemon took Jigen's ankles in hand and lowered them gently, re-sheathing Zantetsuken and propping it against the bedside table.

Jigen had already flipped over and was grinning as Goemon undressed. The samurai blushed as he removed his shirt, then his hakama, pausing momentarily before dispatching the fundoshi, with a movement not unlike loosening a tie. His cock stood at full attention, flushed deep pink in contrast to the pale skin of his hips.

Jigen gripped himself and moaned. " _Babe._ Come here."

Goemon jumped onto the bed and pressed himself into Jigen, dragging himself up the other man's body, kissing each and every scar he encountered on the way to Jigen's face, focusing half his attention on the delicious heat of their bodies sliding together. 

He and Jigen's breathing mingled as Goemon pressed his lips to Jigen's. Blindly, he reached for the bottle of lube they'd left on the bedside table while unpacking before dinner. Fingers slick and cold, he took hold of himself and guided himself into Jigen, kissing the man into silence, humming with pleasure as they pushed together. 

As soon as Goemon lifted his face, Jigen let out a downright girlish moan and Goemon clapped a hand to the man's mouth out of instinct. Jigen laughed through Goemon's fingers. 

"Babe," he whispered as Goemon removed the impromptu gag. "We're in a penthouse suite. People are _expecting_ to hear sex noises."

"I do not wish to give them the satisfaction."

"You worried about Lupin and Fujiko?" 

"Not _worried…_ "

Jigen pressed his forehead to Goemon's. "Fuck them," he said. "You're fucking _me._ And I wanna hear how good it is.'

Goemon pressed his hips forward, making Jigen curl inward, the older man giggling again. Rising to his knees, he grabbed Jigen's thighs with pale fingers and found a rhythm, fucking the gunman in time with his own heavy breathing, in time with Jigen’s moaning and swearing and huffing. Jigen reached forward to grip his own cock and pumped it slowly, firmly, his eyes fluttering half-shut with overwhelming pleasure. 

The sight of it was too much for Goemon. 

"Jigen, I'm… Jigen…"

Jigen's eyes snapped open. "Look at me, babe. Tell me."

"Jigen I'm...ah! I'm… _Jigen!_ "

"Oh… _babe, yes, ah! AH!_ "

Goemon shut his eyes involuntarily as the waves of climax came crashing from somewhere deep inside him, echoing the spasms of Jigen's body as the darker man writhed against him, spilling over himself and his partner. Goemon pressed a hand to Jigen's chest and heard himself cry out, from far away, as he was swept up in the tides of it. 

They fell into each other, Jigen melting into the bed while Goemon collapsed on top of him, breathing deeply and heavily. 

*****

The lights of the city looked like stars, thought Goemon, as at last he rolled over and opened his eyes. 

Jigen had maybe fallen asleep for a little while, but he groaned and turned over on his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look at Goemon with a grin. 

The slight shift of the bed cascaded into the bedside table. The two men tensed involuntarily as Zantetsuken clattered to the floor.

"Babe… you ruined your rope." As if to demonstrate, Jigen picked up a small segment of black twine that had been pressed against his bare leg.

"Hmm? Oh. Well, I can buy more."

Jigen let his head fall onto the pillow. "With whose money?"

"Lupin's."

Jigen's laughter filled the suite. Goemon, still half-delirious with relief and endorphins, joined him. 

When their laughter faded Jigen said, "hey babe?"

"Mm?"

There was a pause. “Hm… nevermind.”

Goemon, stared at Jigen, but didn’t inquire. He wasn’t the sort of man to press. He let himself lay silently for a while, shifting so his head was pressed into Jigen’s neck, watching the ambient light of distant cars flicker across the ceiling. 

“Jigen.”

“Babe?”

"There is something I want to tell you."

"What is it?"

Goemon paused for a long time, then shook his head. Jigen shifted, propping himself up on an elbow again. “Come on, tell me. Please?”

"I… I think I…" Goemon turned away, feeling the corners of his eyes sting. “No, I can’t.”

“You can’t? Is it… is it something bad? Do you have a dark backstory I don’t know about?” Jigen laughed, but Goemon could hear the hollowness in it. He was nervous. 

“No. It’s something good. At least... I think it is. But I do not wish to say something… right now, in this moment… that I am not fully prepared to say." He blinked and looked back at Jigen. "But I _want_ to say it… do you understand?"

Jigen looked at him with wide eyes for a long moment. The man’s expression softened, and many days later Goemon would think he could mark the moment in which Jigen understood.

"Babe. _Goemon._ ” Jigen smiled and touched Goemon’s face. “You gotta just be zen about this. You don't have to say anything, okay? You can say it when you're ready, or never. Whatever. All I care about right now is that you're here, in bed with me… that's pretty fuckin great, isn't it?"

"Yes." Goemon calmed down, and closed his eyes, breathing in Jigen's scent, feeling his heart rate drop back to normal. 

"I'm gonna go smoke on the balcony, you wanna join me?"

"Mm."

Goemon thought that Jigen might pick up his clothes and get dressed again, but the gunman only dug in the pockets for his pack of cigarettes, then stepped out onto the balcony, stark naked, lighter and cigarettes in hand. Goemon followed, feeling serene. 

The city lights were beautiful, stretched out across the landscape below, like a blanket of rare jewels. 

Jigen took a long drag and let the smoke curl slowly out of his nostrils. He opened his mouth, releasing the rest of the smoke into the atmosphere. 

"Goemon?"

"Yes, Jigen."

"I also wanna say it. To you."

Goemon felt fireworks going off in his chest. He slid his hand around the other man's waist. "I'll be here when you're ready."


End file.
